


Falling Feathers

by NetflixandCastiellll



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Castiel Angst, Castiel Fluff, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester Fluff, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Angst, Destiel Fluff, Fluffy Angst, Gen, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Supernatural Fluff, angsty fluff, castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NetflixandCastiellll/pseuds/NetflixandCastiellll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel isn't feeling well. He seeks out help from a friendly face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Feathers

Light footsteps dragged through the hallway of the bunker followed by a swish of a dragging blanket. A sulking Castiel stops in front of the heavy wooden door. He takes in a deep breath and lets out a drawn out sigh. _No, I should not bother him. He has more pressing matters to attend to._ He shuffles his feet and suddenly the bedroom door opens.

“Whoa…geez Cas! You gotta stop poppin’ up like that! Gave me a heart attack. Let a guy know your stoppin’ by next time.” Dean says this, slightly annoyed knowing he’s told this to the angel about a million times.

Eyebrows crumpled together and head tilted to the side, “You’re heart sounds adequate, Dean.”

“That’s not what I…” Saving himself the trouble, he stops his thought short.

After a short awkward silence of staring into the cobalt eyes in front of him, Dean realizes Cas looked off. He noticed heavy bags under his eyes and a deep frown replaced the usual serious yet soft smile that often framed his face. Cas shuffles his feet again, tightening the blanket around himself.

“Ay…uh… Cas, you okay buddy?” Looking concerned. “Is that my blanket?!”

“I-I  uh… I enjoy the material, Dean.” Cas starts walking forward into the room, consequently making Dean step back.

“Seriously Cas, is e'rything alright?” He watches Castiel move slowly over to sit on the edge of the bed. He hunches over and twitches slightly in pain. Burying his face in his hands, the angel’s whole body tenses up.

“I th- I think there’s some… something wrong.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“My… my wings… something is wrong.” He hurdles over again, letting out a sharp yelp.

Dean jumps over and holds up the angel’s face in his hands.  "Whoa… Whoa… I gotcha there Cas.“ After checking to see if he was still conscious, Dean sits down next to him. The bed slumps and creaks from the weight of them both. "Need me to check ‘em out? Make sure they’re solid? I thought yer grace could take care of that sorta thing.”

“My wings are a different entity.” Cas looks up at Dean with wide watery eyes. “They are the most treasured and um…” Looking away shyly, “…private part of my existence as an angel other than my grace.” Cas was gripping tightly to his own shoulders and rocking back and forth.

“And that means…?”

“I uh don’t show my wings to humans… Their true form would be overwhelming and burn out their eyes.” Followed by another sharp cry, Cas falls to the floor.

“Well that’s too damn bad Cas! You gotta let me help you out. Wh-what about that uh… that um profound bond thing you said we got.” Dean sounded almost desperate. He had been worrying about Cas stretching himself too thin lately. And this just solidified that feeling. A louder yell leaves the curled up angel and Dean sits him up.

“Castiel…let me help. I ain’t no good for alotta shit but I can help with this.”

Cas thought about how Dean almost never used his full name anymore. _He must be pretty set in his decision._ Letting out a shallow sigh and a low grumble, he lets the blanket puddle around his waist. Dean reaches over and his fingers softly brush the angel’s shoulder. Cas recoils and Dean frowns at the reaction. Unbuttoning his white button up shirt, Castiel closes his eyes and becomes blushed in the cheeks. After a loud rumble of thunder and the pop of lights, the room suddenly becomes pitch black. A few seconds later, Dean’s eyes adjust to the change. He rubs his eyes with his palms and notices that the only light left in the room was a dim glow that surrounded Castiel. Stunning charcoal colored wings hummed and then folded into place. A wide-eyed Dean sat in shock. Each individual feather had their own dance and they swayed to a silent song that Dean would compare to a religious experience. When he reaches toward them, they stretch out and relax. Cas lets out a slow sign and nods, silently affirming for Dean to touch them.

“I’ll try my best not to hurt ya.”

The soft and shimmery feathers trembled at his forgiving touch. His palm ran along the line of the top of the right wing and Castiel hissed from the tender sting that echoed through his body. Dean spotted an area of broken and bent feathers ruffled in a bunch. He calmly ran his fingers through the gathering in attempt to straighten them out but a few shattered into tiny pieces, almost resembling falling snow. The angel let out a small whine and huddled over, tucking his head between his shoulders.

“Sorry.”

“No. It feels good.” First sucking in another hiss and then relaxing again, Castiel sits up straight to look at Dean while his finger threaded through the feathers. His breath began to steady and he leaned into the pressure. Feeling like he could be lulled to sleep, Castiel rests up against Dean’s shoulder. Breathing deeply and quietly with eyes closed.

“Cas? You okay?”

Forcing a hopeful smile to reassure his friend, “Hmm…Yea. Thank you, Dean. I feel much better than before.” He placed a hand on Dean’s left shoulder and nodded.

“We’re gunna figure this out, Cas. Don’t worry.”


End file.
